


foolproof plan

by trickztr



Category: Orgulho e Paixão (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Funny, M/M, Pining, Sleep Deprivation, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 23:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickztr/pseuds/trickztr
Summary: Finals week can be stressful - especially when your roommate is so distractingly hot -, but Otávio has a plan. An infaillible plan.





	foolproof plan

Finals week was upon them and Otávio decided this year he was gonna be ready for it. 

Balancing school and a full time job was hard, but at this point it just felt normal. So what if they only had aproximately 4-5 hours of sleep every night? Sure, their dorm looked like a war zone, but doesn’t everyone’s? And everyone knows ramen+energy drinks were the pillar of a student’s diet.

But despite doing it every day all semester, final’s week always managed to rattle him. He know it was irrational do assume that he’d somehow lose all of the credits acquired the previous months and completely forget anything he’d learned that year when faced with the fucking test. It didn’t keep his brain from running those lovely scenarios, though.

The way he normally handled it was  ~~unhealthy~~  spending every minute he wasn’t at work memorizing the lectures he’d attended that month. He’d record his professors revising the topics in class and then listen to it pretty much everywhere. The idea was to have the professor’s own words seared into his brain so that he’d remember exactly how they’d phrased and repeat it back when the time for the test came.

Its sucess rate was…not high. Often times he’d catch himself having to resort to his own perception of those classes, something which he considered a huge failure.

To top it all off, this year added  _one other_  stress factor: Luccino Pricelli.

How could anyone focus on studying when they had Luccino for a roommate? 

It was so rude, to be honest. The kid wasn’t just distractingly handsome - which would’ve been hard enough -, but he also incredibly sweet and smart. Youngest of a family of six, he was the first Pricelli to ever go to college. Engineering. 

He once tried to explain one of the equations he was working on to Otávio, but the only thing he learned from that experience was that numbers could be sexy.

The point was that last semester he didn’t take the Pricelli Variable into account and that threw off his entire rhythm. This time he was prepared. 

Also, his phone was short on mem, so the recording strategy was out of question. 

This semester Otávio was gonna nail those exams, even if killed him! In fact, if it  _did_  kill him he wouldn’t have to live to see his grades, so it was a win-win situation.

His genius plan was three-fold:

1) Instead of wasting precious time sleeping a few hours straight, he’d take power naps throughout the day. He did the math: if he slept twenty minutes every hour of the day, he’d eventually sleep a total of eight hours which was far more than he was getting anyway;

2) He’d avoid all contact with Luccino, he would’ve even look at him, even though they shared a 12²m dorm;

3) and he’d find a way to introduce his classes’ content into his every day life. Shouldn’t be hard, since he was in the army. Politics were a huge part of it.

–

The first two days were encouraging. Sure, he was a  _little_ tired, but those power naps were so refreshing! He really felt incredibly stupid for wasting so many years of his sleeping through the night when just sitting down somewhere and nodding off for less than half an hour was an option. Truly outstanding.

Avoiding Luccino was bit harder though, since he, too, was so focused on his own studying methods. As it turns out (and that’s something Otávio already knew, he often forgot), Luccino cooks when he’s stressed. Usually shirtless, with his headphones on, reciting unintelligible Physics theories.

The food was amazing, though, and almost made up for the distraction it provided.

The trickiest, hardest part of that experiment, however, was adding political topics into his conversations at work. Somehow it didn’t occur to him that it  _could_  potentially be awkward to talk about the socialist theory at the barracks. Still, he counted it as a win. Even if some of the opinions he heard made him want to throw up, it was an opportunity to practice his argumentative skills.

He got a few dirty looks as he walked the halls and, sure, some of his colleagues unfollowed him on social medias, but he was proud of himself. He remembered all of the relevant references for each debate! He was gonna ace those exams.

–

Wednesday rolled around and all he wanted was to slip into a coma. It was his day off and he’d never felt more exhausted in his entire life. And that’s counting his months as a recruit early on in his military career!

Otavio would’ve happily given away all of his earthly possessions if that meant he could sleep for twelve hours straight.

His twenty minutes were up, though, so he dragged himself out of bed and slowly got up. 

Time to hit the books.

An affronted “ow!”, combined with how weirdly soft the floor felt stopped him on his tracks. He looked down to find Luccino lying on his yoga mat, the damn shorts+headphones combo, in the tiny space between their beds.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He assumed he’d actually said the words, but Luccino just looked up at him, brow furrowed, so maybe it wasn’t all that comprehensible to other human beings. He made a vague gesture with his hands to express the sentiment and that seemed to suffice, as Luccino went right back to doing pull ups.

How dared he.

Coffee. Otávio decided he needed coffee. And maybe a whole can of Red Bull. Even better: Red Bull  _and_  coffee. That’d wake him up so good.

The four steps it took to get to their improvised kitchen seemed like the longest walk he’d ever endured in his life. Otavio often heard the expression ‘limbs made of lead’ when people mentioned they were so tired they could barely move, but that day he learned it wasn’t an exaggeration. His legs and arms really did feel that heavy. 

His stomach growled. Otávio tried to think back on the last time he ate something, but with no success. 

To be fair, remembering things in general proved difficult in that moment. All his brain kept shouting at him was  _sleep, sleep now_. He ignored that.

Okay, so, food. His body wanted food. Easy. Luccino had made some delicious-looking dish the night before. As he opened the fridge to get it, he started laughing. First just a low chuckle, then childish giggling and before he knew it, he was doubling over with uproarious laughter.

 _delicious-looking, like the cook himself_ , he’d thought and at that moment it seemed like the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life.

Otávio laughed so hard, he had to lean on the fridge for support, but miscalculated where to lean on and his entire body just fell forward.

Strange as it may seem, the only thing he thought as the chill ran up his spine at the prospect of falling face-first was  _‘i’m break my nose, probably’_.

Strong, sweaty arms prevented that fate, though. Luccino grabbed him by the waist and pulled him up.

“Woah, there, Major,” he chuckled. “Are you okay?”

Otávio looked up at him and smiled. Exhaustion was getting the best of him and he could feel sleep seeping under his skin again. “That was kinda hot,” he said.

Apparently Luccino heard him this time, because he chuckled again, low-pitched this time, and replied with, “Glad to be of service.” He took Otávio’s hand and put an arm over his shoulders. “Okay, now let’s get you to bed, because you obviously need to sleep.”

Otávio shook his head. “No time to sleep.”

“Yes time to sleep,” Luccino said, stern. “You’ll drop dead any second now if you don’t get some rest.”

“But I–”

“Yes, yes, I know. Studying. Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up in a few hours, but you gotta get some sleep.”

Otávio sat on the bed, disgruntled. It was so unfair. He  _could_  pull it off, he knew he could. It was the damn Pricelli Variable all over again! He wagglaed an accusatory finger at him.

“Itzzyou,” he slurred, tumbling back down on the bed. “Itzzyou.”

Luccino clearly wasn’t intimidated or ashamed. He just threw a blanket over Otávio’s body and said, “and you wake you’re taking a shower, for the love of god.”

“No. No time.”

“You’re showering even if I have to bathe you myself.”

“ _Yes_ ,” was the last thing Otávio said before slipping into a deep sleep. Hours later when he woke up, rested and refreshed, he’d blush furiously remembering that.

 

 


End file.
